


Burdened With Glorious Purpose

by TheGreatCatsby



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), Tony Stark - Fandom
Genre: Loki Is A Jerk, bad family relationships, crack!fic, except taken in a hugely different direction, he doesn't behave like a prince should, inspired by the new prelude comic, probably AU, the drink, unless that's what really happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 00:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/830652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatCatsby/pseuds/TheGreatCatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It seems that the universe doesn't want Loki to take over the world. But he's going to do it anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burdened With Glorious Purpose

**Author's Note:**

> There is an explanation but it's not really a good one.

Ideally, a projection of your mother wouldn’t pop up while you were making intense negotiations with aliens who happen to hang around somewhere near the void. 

But this is Loki’s life, and so his mother’s projection does appear just as he’s about to seal the deal on some super important plans involving Midgard and an army. 

“What is the meaning of this?” the Other growls. 

“A moment,” Loki tells him, ignoring the snarl of anger that follows. He turns to his projection-mother, Frigga, and says, “Now is not a good time.” 

“Loki,” Frigga cries, “you live! I thought you were dead!” 

Loki narrows his eyes. “I’m alive, as you can see,” he says, “and I’m busy.” 

“Come home,” Frigga says. 

“I have other plans,” Loki tells her. “I really have to go.” 

“Who is she?” the Other asks, growing impatient. 

“She-“ Loki stutters on the word. 

“I’m his mother,” Frigga answers for him. “Who are you?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Loki says. “Now is not the time for introductions. I’m busy.” 

“Am I going to have to send Thor after you?” Frigga asks. “Is this something your father wouldn’t approve of?” 

“Not my father,” Loki mutters. 

Frigga shakes her head. “This is behavior unbefitting of my son.” 

“I’m not your son,” Loki snaps. Behind him, the Other folds his arms in a surprisingly human gesture. 

“I raised you,” Frigga says, voice growing cold, “and I loved you and gave you a home and let you experiment magic on me. If that doesn’t make you my son, I don’t know what does.” 

“Blood,” Loki tells her. He casts a glance back at the Other as if to say, “Can you believe this?” 

The Other cannot. 

“Loki, stop this nonsense right now,” Frigga says. “Don’t make me send Thor.” 

“Oh, do send him,” Loki says. “I’m sure he’s growing bored in Asgard. He must need things to smash.” 

“Loki!” Frigga yells. 

“I’ll talk to you later.” 

“When, Loki?” Frigga asks. 

“After I take care of this world domination thing I’ve got planned.” 

“What?”

“What?” Loki waves a hand and she vanishes. He turns back to the Other, who looks furious. But the Other always looks furious. 

“I trust that she will not interfere with your plans,” the Other says. 

Loki smirks. “She has no sway over me,” he says. “I do what I want.” And if he believes it, surely it will be true. 

They continue to make plans. 

**

Clint Barton has to be the most annoying mind-controlled agent Loki has ever met. 

“Do they have milkshakes in Asgard?” he asks during a particularly long stretch of road. 

“No,” says Loki, who doesn’t know what a milkshake is and doesn’t want to find out. 

“Oh, you’re missing out,” Barton says. To the driver, Selvig, he adds, “Stop at the next diner. We’re getting milkshakes.” 

“I don’t want milkshakes,” Loki snaps. “I want to rule this world.”

“Right, well you can’t rule on an empty stomach,” Clint tells him, “and besides, you can’t rule this world without knowing about the food. The food is good.” 

“I don’t care,” Loki says, even though he’s pretty hungry. The Chitauri food could only be described as digestible. Barely. 

They ride in silence for a few minutes across the empty desert. 

“What are you, anyway?” Barton asks. 

Loki grits his teeth. “Do you do nothing but ask questions?” 

“I like to know who I’m working with.” 

Loki nearly hits the seat in front of him. “You are mind controlled. You are not supposed to like anything.”

“Maybe your glow-stick is broken,” Clint suggests. 

“It’s a scepter,” Loki says, injured, “and it is not broken. You’re here.” 

“Yeah.” Barton chews on that for a moment. “Yeah, I feel mind controlled. But I still have thoughts, you know.”

“I don’t know,” Loki says, because he’s had the pleasure of having his mind all to himself since he was born. Sometimes he wishes someone would mind control him so he wouldn’t have to think, but he’s had no such luck. Even the Chitauri wouldn’t do it, and one of them told him privately that it was because his mind seemed like a container of exploding stars. 

Whatever that meant. 

“Are you really Thor’s brother?” Clint asks. “Because I saw him, you know. He took out a whole SHIELD base and I nearly shot him with an arrow but I didn’t. You don’t look like him but, well, Selvig said he’s your brother.” 

“We don’t believe everything Selvig says,” Loki snaps. “Thor is not my brother.” 

“Then who is he?” 

“He is Thor.” Loki is heavily considering jumping out of the vehicle, agreement with the Chitauri be damned. 

“I think he makes you upset,” Barton says. “You should resolve those issues.” 

“You are not my mind healer,” Loki snaps. 

“No,” Clint agrees, “but you need one.” 

“Shut up,” Loki says. 

After a moment’s pause Clint asks, “Do they have coffee on Asgard?” 

Loki hits him over the head, light enough so that he won’t become himself again, but hard enough to make a point. 

Clint doesn’t ask any more questions. 

And they ride on into the night. 

**

“I need an eyeball.” 

It’s not an ideal request, and certainly not one that Clint makes often. Part of him thinks that asking for an eyeball is weird, and the other part thinks it’s cool that he knows someone who can get one for him. That second part is the part he’ll regret later. 

Loki nods and leaves. When he comes back he’s dressed in a suit and scarf looking like an Armani advertisement. Clint is deeply impressed. 

“Where is this eye, exactly?” 

“Germany,” Loki answers. “I’m going to make a scene. I might as well look good doing it.” 

“Have you ever considered stealth?” Clint asks. 

Loki looks at him like he doesn’t understand what the word means. “I want people to see me,” he says, aghast, and turns on heel. His coat tails swirl. He walks away. 

Clint rubs a hand through his hair. “That might be the problem.” 

**

Because life is cruel, Thor shows up. 

“I told Frigga not to send you,” Loki says, once they’ve trapped him in a shiny glass cage. “She doesn’t listen.” 

“Loki, this isn’t something a prince of Asgard should do,” Thor says. 

Loki glares at him. “I’m not a prince of Asgard and I do what I want.” 

Thor looks hurt. “Loki, there will be trouble if you don’t stop this.” 

“I made a promise,” Loki says. “I don’t break my promises.” 

Thor’s eyes widen. “Yes you do,” he says. 

Loki rolls his eyes. “That isn’t the point, Thor.”

“Then what is the point, Loki?” Thor asks. 

“The point,” Loki says, “is that I am done with Asgard. I found new friends. And I am working with them now.” 

This is half a lie. The Chitauri aren’t what Loki would consider friends, but they are useful in their own way, and Loki had nothing better to do when they offered him the Earth in exchange for the tesseract. Plus, it would piss off Thor. 

Thor shakes his head and walks away. 

Loki settles in to enjoy some peace and quiet when the Other decides to make an appearance in his mind, jerking him away from the helicarrier with no warning. 

“You should really warn me,” Loki tells him. 

The Other growls. “Why have you trapped yourself?” 

“Relax,” Loki says, “it’s all part of the plan.”

“And what is the plan?” the Other asks. 

“I can’t tell you,” Loki says. “It’s a secret. But don’t worry, it’ll work.” 

“Are you planning to cross us, Laufeyson?” the Other asks. “Because if you are, you will regret it.” 

“I know, I know, things worse than pain.” Loki waves a hand, unconcerned looking even if he is vaguely concerned on the inside. Because part of his plan does include crossing the Chitauri. He doesn’t like them, he doesn’t like Thanos, and he doesn’t like the Other, but they did give him new power and a free ride to Earth. But they don’t need to know that. “Don’t worry, I have a bunch of minions on my side who are building technology that will help your army get to Earth, and then we’ll destroy things and I’ll be king. And it’s in New York. How about that? Isn’t that a good plan? Humans love New York.” 

“I do not know what New York is,” the Other says. 

“New York is a city,” Loki tells him. “I got my suit there. You really should have studied Earth before sending me to take it over. Honestly.” 

The Other stares at him. 

“Um,” Loki says. 

The Other returns Loki abruptly to his cell. Where the Black Widow is staring at him. 

Fun. 

**

The next time the Other comes to call, Loki is flying as fast as he can away from Stark Tower. And suddenly, he can’t see anything except for the rocky Chitauri planet that he’s not on and the Other’s face. 

Loki crashes into a building, falling off his flying spacecraft and rolling onto the floor amongst scattered pieces of glass from the window. 

“Loki,” the Other says. 

“You are the worst,” Loki yells. “I was driving. Do you realize I can’t see when you do that? I was driving!” 

“No matter,” the Other says. “Why aren’t you winning?” 

“Your forces are weak,” Loki snaps, “and they don’t know how to fight. You promised me something better.” 

“I promised you Chitauri,” the Other says. “You have Chitauri. Now do something with them. Exercise your control. Use the power of the scepter.” 

“The scepter,” Loki repeats. And then he realizes that he’s left it at Stark Tower, where Thor had been. Where Stark had been. Where one of the Avengers surely is now. 

“Loki,” the Other says. 

“Hypothetically, what if I don’t have it?” Loki asks. 

“What.” 

Loki takes a deep breath. “I don’t have it.” 

The Other slams his fist into a nearby rock. “What do you mean, you don’t have it?” 

“I mean that the scepter is not in my possession at the moment.” 

The Other snarls. “What did you do with it?” 

“I jumped off a building,” Loki explains, “and left it behind. It was an accident, I assure you. This wasn’t part of my plan.” 

“I hope this was not part of your plan,” the Other snaps. “Would you like to tell me more about this fabled plan of yours?” 

“Well,” Loki says, “there’s a fair bit of chaos, and some speeches, and revenge against Thor, and making people feel bad about themselves and some subverting of teams and-“ 

“Shut up and get back to work!’ the Other screams. “Do not fail me!” 

And then Loki is back in the building with the war raging around him. 

“Fine,” he mutters. “I don’t see you fighting this war.” 

**  
Because life is cruel, Loki loses. He isn’t completely upset. It’s like a mini-revenge against the Chitauri and Thanos and the Other for being so rude to him and for assuming he’d do whatever they wanted. And it upset Thor. 

The Other won’t speak to him. Which is half relieving and half vaguely ominous. Loki ignores it. 

Unfortunately, it also means that he’s locked up in a SHIELD cell without his scepter and that Thor will take him back to Asgard. 

And Tony Stark is sitting across from him. 

“I don’t like you,” Stark says as he pours a glass of whiskey and stares at Loki through the bars of his cell. 

“The feeling is mutual,” Loki says. 

Tony Stark won’t give him his promised drink, which he really needs right now. He’s been beaten to a pulp by the Hulk. The cell is small and uncomfortable. In less than twenty-four hours he’ll have to face Odin, who is the most difficult idiot this side of the void. Instead Stark waves the drink in Loki’s face. So far away, yet so close. Loki’s tempted to grab for it. 

“So,” Stark says, “what’s wrong with you anyway?” 

“What?” Loki asks. 

“What’s the deal with you and Thor?” Stark clarifies. “You hate him. Why? What’d he ever do to you?” 

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand-“

“I’m smart. Try me.” And Stark just sits there with an infuriatingly smug smile on his face, holding the glass of whiskey. 

“No,” Loki says. 

Stark catches him eyeing the alcohol. “Sucks, doesn’t it? To be imprisoned? You know, I bet you wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t tried to take over the world.” 

“Really,” Loki says. “I hadn’t thought of that.” 

Stark smirks. “No. You know, I’d kill to study some of your magic.” 

Loki raises an eyebrow. “Is that so, Stark? Because I’d take you up on that offer. There are several people I have in mind.” 

Stark looks surprised for a brief moment before settling back into his smugness. “I’m afraid I don’t want to know that badly.” 

Loki leans forward and hisses, “Oh, but you do.” The glass of whiskey is tantalizingly close. 

Stark doesn’t lean away. He’s also leaning forward. The glass is practically touching the bars of the cell. “I don’t make bargains with the God of Lies,” he says. 

“Are you sure?” Loki asks. “Because I distinctly remember you making me an offer.” He grabs for the drink and Stark breaks out of his daze and jerks backwards, whiskey sloshing dangerously close to the edge of the glass. 

Loki glares at him. Stark smirks and downs the whiskey in one shot. “All that talk for a shot of whiskey?” he says, placing the empty glass on the floor, now in Loki’s reach. “I’d hate to see what you’d say if you wanted something bigger. Oh wait.” Stark’s grin widens. “I did see, and you failed.” 

“You talk too much,” Loki says, looking mournfully at the empty glass on the floor. If he breaks it, he can stab Stark with one of the pieces and get the whole bottle of whiskey.

But Stark is too far away to reach. He’d have to risk throwing the shards, which don’t hold the same familiar weight as throwing knives. Plus, they might set the Hulk on him again. Shame. 

“You should talk,” Stark says, and then he stands up. “Have fun in Asgard.” 

“Die,” Loki hisses. 

“Only if you die first,” Stark replies. He places the whiskey bottle at the edge of the room and then he’s gone. 

And Loki is left contemplating the whiskey bottle across the room, left out of reach, up until they come to take him back to Asgard.


End file.
